Hollow
by BuZZyReCKy
Summary: When the emptiness inside you says, "I'm dead, and I can't LIVE like this anymore." Not a typical Left 4 Dead fanfic


**Hollow.**

The water burned like acid as it cascaded down my body. It was filthy by the time it reached the dirt beneath me, but it didn't help. Nothing did. This was something no amount of water would purge.

Despite the pain contact with the liquid gave me, I wanted to wash myself anyway. It made me feel normal. I've been sick for over a month now, and the dejected reflection staring back at me from the water showed it. My once athletic body was now sickly thin, discolored and covered in wounds. An outline of my ribs showed through the tattered cloth plastered to my skin. Dust had settled in my short, honey-blond hair, coloring it like ash. On the other hand, my face lacked color, and my sunken eyes lacked luster. It was almost as if all traces of blue in my irises had faded, although it might have just been the swampy water I was using as my mirror.

"What's wrong with you, Jake?"

The sudden noise caused my heart to skip a beat, and I swerved towards its source. I recognized the girl before staring at my reflection again, "L-Lenna… I didn't think you'd follow me out here."

Lenna sighed, "We're a team; did you really think I'd let you ditch me? Seriously though, why the hell are you coming this close to the humans? There's no fricking way that you came here just to torture yourself with that nasty water. What were you thinking?"

"I… I…"

"If any of them see you, you're going to be a dead man. Do you want that to happen, Jake? Do you think I want that?"

I had no response; Lenna had a right to be mad. When the infection struck, I was confused and alone, and she took me with her. Here I was taking her care for granted. She might have been shorter and younger than me, but I still thought of her as a mother in some ways, which was kind of disgusting, considering the other ways I thought of her.

She clenched her fists, "You want to die, don't you?"

I pointed to the gaping wounds on my chest, "I'm already dead. We both are, Lenna… and we have been for months."

"Don't say that… don't…" Lenna fumed, close to tears. She probably knew she couldn't deny it though. We were filthy and hungry, clothed in mere scraps of fabric, and the human world we once knew was already a long forgotten memory. And nothing else made it clearer than the fact that our flesh was slowly rotting off our weakened bones.

"Hey, I-I'm sorry. It's just so hard. I can't fucking live like this. I don't know how the rest of you can manage… I–"

"You're not the only one suffering, Jake. Remember that." She came up and stood beside me, where we stared at the fluctuating painting on the lake's surface: two outcasts in desolate ruin. Apart from the conditions our bodies were in, from an outside perspective, the picture might have even been seen as disturbingly beautiful.

Despite my positive thoughts on Lenna's appearance, I saw that she was just as damaged as I was. She could have even been more of a wreck physically, but under that blanket of dirt, under the layers of dying skin and bones… there was a flickering flame of something I didn't have.

Hope.

I mumbled, "So… now what? Are we just going to go back then?"

"I don't know. I don't see how I – or any of us – could keep going the way we are now…"

She was right. Though she wanted to live, there really wasn't much to live for anymore. There was no cure for what we had, and we were alone in our agony. It wasn't like I actually wanted the monster in me that spawned from the wretched disease, but to everyone I once knew, that's who I became. I had Lenna, and I was grateful for her, but we were really just two demons sentenced for a torturous journey to what they would call our home.

"Jake."

"Hm?" I said in response.

Her voice softened, "What… what do you think is going to happen to us when we die?"

"We're already dead."

She grabbed my hand and looked me in the eyes, "No… really, Jake. I'm scared. I don't want to die… I don't want to die."

We had been denying it, but it was clear that we didn't have much time left. We were fugitives with cursed stomachs, hungering for what we did not want to eat. We were black sheep, friends that were better off dead to the people we loved. And though our bellies were empty, food wasn't the only thing we needed. It was at that moment that I realized that the flame of hope I once thought I saw in her eyes was gone.

"Well," I told Lenna with a halfhearted smile, "Wherever we're going, I'm sure it will be better than this godforsaken place."

"I don't know, I've done some pretty bad things…"

"Lenna, I– shit, someone's coming; get behind a bush or something!"

I knew that we could easily overpower a single person, armed or not, but even from a distance, I recognized him. He was someone I didn't want to hurt. We should have run while we had the chance, but I couldn't help myself… I wanted to see him. I stood in the open alone and waited for him to get closer.

He didn't recognize me at first, but when he got close enough, he did a double take, "…Jake?"

"Hey, Mike."

Wow… this was awkward.

He seemed pleasantly surprised, despite the fact that he was in danger, "Jake? Whoa… I thought you were dead, man!"

I gulped, "…I am."

"Oh."

Neither of us had anything to say after that, but I couldn't let the conversation die, "So… um, isn't it dangerous to be out here alone? What are you doing here anyway?"

"It's my business, not yours."

Geez, how rude.

But I couldn't get mad at Mike. He was one of the few people I missed from my past life. He could be a douche at times, but that didn't stop me from caring about him. I coughed intentionally to show how I felt about his response before carrying on, "You're still alive, aren't you?"

"Well, no shit."

The conversation dragged on without meaning for some time, but I wasn't paying attention to it. There was something stirring in the recesses of my mind, and it was scaring me. I tried to ignore it, but in doing so I fixated on it. At first, I couldn't tell what it was, but in reality I knew all along. I was just too horrified to admit it.

There was a burning desire raging within me, dancing near the boundaries of my control. I was hungry. My body wanted food, and it sensed it right in front of me. The realization was sickening. I wasn't going to let that happen… but it was just as hard for me to stop myself as it was let go. Mike stood in front of me, probably knowing I felt like sinking my teeth into his skin, but he didn't seem to care how tormenting it was. The talking continued, and the longer it went on, the more I wanted it. I needed to get away.

But I couldn't. The urge was strengthening, and so was my self-hatred. I felt so horrible that I wanted to die. Salivating over the thought of pulling a friend apart, piece-by-piece… that was fucked up. I was fucked up. I didn't deserve to live half-dead a moment longer.

Mike was talking about some random girl he met when I suddenly cut in, "M-Mike…"

"What?"

"Please… kill me. Please, I don't want to live… like this."

I didn't mean to, but I broke down in front of him. I'm not usually one to hide my emotions, but I think it's the first time he ever saw me cry. I don't know if I actually wanted to blurt those words to him, but it happened, and now I was too ashamed to look at him.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not going to kill you."

"You have to. You aren't safe otherwise."

"Couldn't you just leave?" he asked. I guess he knew what I was talking about. He knew, but he didn't understand. He didn't understand how hard I was struggling to fight the thing I wanted most. Mike just stood there comfortably, unaffected as he kept talking, "I couldn't kill you, Jake. You and I are like brothers, and nothing's going to change that."

Those words would've made me smile under different circumstances, but I was trembling, fighting myself and fighting tears as my recently acquired instincts took over. They couldn't be killed, and I guess I wasn't going to be either.

"No, Mike… you have to listen to me this time. Though I don't know why you're out here, I see that gun in your belt and I know what it's for. I'm already pretty much dead anyway. Please."

He frowned, "Seriously, I don't care how bad it is out here. You're not the only one suffering, Jake. I've already said I wasn't going to kill you, so I won't. Simple as that." A hint of anger was embedded in his voice now, and it also showed on his face.

"I…"

I had nothing to say.

"It was nice seeing you, Jake. Take care."

Mike shot me with a sad smile, and then he turned back in the direction of the stronghold.

And it happened.

My body saw this as an opportunity, and before I even knew what was happening, I was on top of Mike. He screamed, flung me off him, and turned back to face me.

"What the hell, Jake!"

I couldn't help myself; I scrambled to get back up while he was still on the floor, and I lunged for him again, my mouth ready to tear his flesh. He struggled to fight me off him, and since my body had been weakened it wasn't too hard… but it was only a matter of time. He managed to get me back off and onto the dirt.

That time, as he lay there, I saw his hand trembling… hovering over his gun. But he went no further.

I was relentless, and I got back up for a third attack. He struggled again, but he was holding back. Did he still not want to hurt me? All it took was one bite, and I knew it was all over.

But it didn't end there… my hunger was not satiated. I kept ripping chunks out of his body, powerless in a fight against the monster I had become. Mike screamed and cried in agony, but I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. And I did.

_I'm sorry, Mike, I really am. I am so fucking sorry._

My mouth was full of bloody flesh, and I couldn't have voiced my feelings even if it wasn't, but I swore I never wanted this to happen. I swore that this was never what I wanted. I told myself that it was the truth.

…but as Mike breathed his last breath, I knew I was a liar.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This probably wasn't something along the lines of what you're expecting for a Left 4 Dead fic, but I wrote this and wanted to share it, so here it is. Zombie games, zombie movies, zombie books... we're obsessed with them, and there's no denying that. I know it's been done before, but when it comes to writing about zombies, one thing I've always wanted to do was to make the zombies seem... human. To make them worthy of our sympathy at least. I don't know if this one-shot was successful at that, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

The title refers to the ever-present emptiness we all feel. It eats away at us from the inside, and even if we try to fill it (whether it be with relationships, video games, money, or in this case, human flesh), it never seems to go away.

Also, this may or may not ruin it for you, but aside from the zombie bits, the whole story was actually a metaphorical representation of how falling in love with your friend feels, and how it can ultimately wreck your friendship, as well as other things. (If you want to analyze other parts of the story, such as why the main character is a zombie, how people feel about zombies, and what the genders of the two characters in the story are, then you can probably easily figure out the rest).

That's it. Although I do think the Left 4 Dead series is cool, I probably won't be writing any other zombie fanfics, so I hope you at least enjoyed this one.


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